Clipped Wings
by IshiHatake23
Summary: The Dixon brothers are reunited and the forest between Woodberry and the prison turns into a battel ground, with Daryl smack dab in the middle. He doesn't want to choose between his first friend and his brother. But sometimes choices are made for us and Daryl is no exception.


**After the Dixon brothers reunite there's the issue of Merle bing batshit and Daryls loyalty. I haven't seen this theory yet, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who's thought of it. Anyway, I decided I wanted a fic about it.**

***~Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in TWD**

The group was in a semi-circle in a stretch of woods between Woodberry and the prison, the air charged with unpredictable energy. God, how had it gotten to be this way? Rick pointing his gun at Merle, Merle pointing his at Rick, and Daryl in the middle with his hands on both their chests, crossbow laying at his feet. Rick and Merle each had one bullet left on them and were damn well prepared to use it for the others execution and everyone knew it. Carol was screaming for them to stop and Daryl couldn't have agreed more, someone was about to get hurt. Or killed.

Don't let it come to that. Please, God, don't let it come to that...

The two bodies surged, Daryls arms threatening to buckle under the vicious force they were pushing with. Merel kept coming, digging his feet into the dirt and heaving, swinging his bladed prostetic over his brother and the former cops head and Daryl had to throw his shoulder into him. It was like trying to hold back a bull. Then Rick, the fucker, got the bright idea to go low, trying to nail the oldest Dixon from under Daryls straining arm. This was going to go bad really fast. Merle was half on top of his brother and Rick was crouching now, only being held back by Daryl fisting the back of his shirt and one of the mans thick thighs wrapped around his own.

"You cuffed me to a goddamn roof! N' now you wanna keep me away from my brother?!"

_Stop it..._

"You were out of control! You still are!"

_Shut up..._

"Like you ain't?! You're crazier then batshit!"

_Goddamn it, I said-_

"I'll show you how fucking crazy I can get!"

"_**ENOUGH!**_"

All heads whipped to Daryl and the two fighters stopped moving, their eyes wide like he'd knocked their heads together. He shoved them both back, Rick nearly falling on his ass and Merle doing a little pin-wheel that would have been halarious if it were any other situation. Daryl pegged them both with a cold glare while rolling his knotted shoulders under his leather vest. He heard a few people say his name, but the roaring in his ears wouldn't let him focus on who it might have been. Hell, he didn't want to know. Ever since this altercation started he'd been getting looks of sympathy and he couldn't take it, not now. He was keyed up just as much as his brother and Rick and he was damn sure he'd crack if the peanut gallery kept up the pity.

"What the fuck? It's the end of the damn world and you two are still playing cops 'n robbers." Daryl snarled, his foot stomping into the Georgia dirt like a horse. "You think a mexican stand-off with yer poodle shooters is gonna solve everything? All y'all are do'n is make'n a lot of noise and goin' nowhere. Life's hard enough without ya fuckin' it up more."

"Daryl." Ricks voice sounded from his right, the tone reasoning and impatient at the same time. "Your brother's not stable, it isn't sa-"

"You shut yer Goddamn mouth! Yer more fucked in the head then I am, I can see it it yer eyes!" Merle bit out, a whole lot of pissed off radiating from him. "I jus' wanted ya back, D. Ya gotta know that, right? They were gonna keep us apart!"

"You held a gun to Maggies head! You beat the hell out of me!" Glenn yelled from the background, hand going to his battered face.

"All ya had to do was bring me to Daryl 'n that'd been it!" The oldest Dixon yelled back, acting like he was going to go for the kid until Daryls arm came back up to keep him at bay. "Ya left me no choice ya little chink! All I wanted was my brother!"

"You see what I mean?" Rick stepped up behind the brothers, pointing his gun over the youngers shoulder to Merle. "He's irrational and dangerous! Daryl, just move and-"

Daryl turned around, coming nose to nose with the man just like they did back in Atlanta; but this time the hunter didn't back down. "You need to put that gun down and step off me, Rick. Right now."

The man did so immediately, like he was backing away from a dog he was afraid was about to go for his throat. Daryl knew he probably looked rip-shit pissed, Merle'd once told him when he got into these calm rages he looked like something that had crawled out of hell. And the way eveybody was staring at him, that was probably pretty accurate. He felt a stab of guilt followed by a quick shot of shame for the anger he was throwing at the people he loved, but they were beyond easy right now. He resumed his earlier stance, Rick to his right and Merle to his left, keeping an eye on the both of them.

Taking a ragged breath he glared at both his brother and his friend, feeling a strange sadness bleed into him. "You were my first real friend, Rick. But he's my brother, the only real family I got. All I've ever had since our mama died. Don't make me side between y'all, cause I can't do it. I've lost enough already, don't make me choose who to lose next."

Most if not all eyes dropped to the ground and their sympathy for him made him feel like bolting. But he couldn't do that, if he fled now one of his nearest and dearest was going to end up dead. Merle paced in a tight circle like a caged animal and Rick was pulling at his hair.

God, _please_, let him get through to at least one of them...

"...Go..."

At first Daryl thought he'd been hearing things, the noise merely a raspy whisper. His head swiveled slowly to Rick, the man wasn't looking at Merle. He was looking at _him_. Slowly, one by one, the members of the group dawned shocked expressions as they understood what had just come out of the former cops mouth. Betrayl nailed Daryl in the chest like a cinderblock, stealing his breath with the pain.

"Excuse me...?"

The hurt in the youngest brothers eyes reflected back at him from Ricks misty ones, but the mans voice was hard as stone. "I said 'go', Daryl. I told you back at the farm, you don't owe us anything. You found your brother so..." Rick seemed to steel himself for what he was about to say, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. "So you can stop following us around like a stray dog and go to where ever the hell you belong."

Daryl blinked at the man, feeling stupidly hurt. He dully realized he'd retreated into himself, like- well shit, like a dog tucking it's tail. The words stung and he found himself desperately wishing the man would take them back. And the knowledge that he wouldn't was like salt in the wound. His life-long fear of abandonment spiked furiously, compelling him to take a step toward the group leader.

"For fucks-sake, I said _**go**_!" Rick stomped towards the brothers, brandishing the pistol again. "Get out of here!"

The brothers backed up, eyes trained on the firearm. Merle palmed his own, but didn't bring it up, the shift in his eyes telling Rick he wouldn't fire if Daryl was still in the middle. The group was tense, begging them to stop, but not daring to go near the three. Rick felt like utter shit and he leveled the gun at them and slipped his finger onto the tigger and Carols cry had him wishing he could eat the bullet himself.

And then he did the most unforgivable thing. The most condeming sin he'd ever committed.

The bullet whizzed through the air and cut across Daryls shoulder blades. As he cried out, knees slamming into the ground, bits of white painted leather floated to the Georgia dirt. People screamed, reaching helplessly for their friend, but unable to go near him. Rick was sick as he saw what he'd done. He'd ment to pull the trigger, graze one of them to scare them off, but... Oh sweet Jesus, the cut went right through the joints of the wings on the back of his vest. The full extent of the situation fell on his shoulders and the symbolism smacked him right in the face.

He'd clipped an angels wings. _Daryls wings._ Their angel was broken- well, he wasn't their angel anymore...was he?

Daryl looked up at Rick with those pure blue eyes and God help them all, they were flat, lightless, unreachable. Merle hooked his prostetic carefully under his brothers arms and helped him to his feet, his gun aimed at Ricks head. Daryl put his hand on his brothers gun, lowering it silently. Hope flared in Ricks chest, but then he caught a chill from the mans blank expression. Merle opened his mouth to tell his little bro off, but the younger just shook his head.

"He ain't worth the bullet, bro." Daryls voice was as flat as his eyes and absolutely glacial as he scooped up his crossbow and turned on his heel. "Let's go."

Merle looked back at Rick; hate, anger, and disgust, writen over his rough face... And then that motherfucker smiled. Fucking _grinned_, before going after his little brother. Rick wanted desperately to go after them as they melted into the woods in that eerie way of theirs. But suddenly Carols hand met his face and sent him spinning like a top, leaving him laid out like a rug. Words, curses, and verbal venom was spat down at him, but he couldn't focus on that. Because he'd landed in Daryls blood and the sight of the mans life liquid splashed on the ground by his hand brought a tourent of tears to his eyes.

_God, forgive me for what I've done..._

**AU/Note: I needed a break from another of TWD fics and this is what came of it. I felt bad writing it, I really didn't want to do that to Daryl, I feel like I killed him. As for Merle, the reason I wrote him this way is because I really think he wants Daryl back, but I also thinks he's possessive of him (the why of the smile at the end). Rick, well, I just like making his life harder XD**

**R&R please and thank you!**


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